Monday, June 6, 2011

I’m here in San Diego Airport waiting for a plane that’s going to be 38 minutes late. WTF? I hold up on my end of the bargain and show up on time. Maybe next time I’ll be the one 38 minutes late. See how they like it. Trust me, I busted my ass getting here on time. A quick rewind:

Sunday morning: I position myself in front of my desktop, cup of Irish breakfast tea. Time to start preparing for my Pittsburgh trip later in the week. Leisurely I dial up my Travelocity itinerary. Something about my flight leaving 06/06. That can’t be right. That’s tomorrow.

Tomorrow! Shit!

Can’t be. I must have booked it wrong. I’m supposed to be attending the 9th International Bipolar Conference in Pittsburgh starting - let’s see - the 9th. And a family stopover before hand, let’s see ...

Nothing to worry about. Three days of work to do in one day, no big deal, if I give my laundry a miss. What the hell, clean underwear is over-rated, anyway.

Monday 1 AM: I kind of have everything packed. Biggest strategic decision - do I bring my didgeridoo? Is a bear Catholic? Next biggest strategic decision - what do I forget to bring this time? My horse collar travel pillow? A cable to one of my zillion electronic devices? I know - the earbuds to my iPod.

Monday 6 AM: Note to self - shaving in this particular state of pre-coffeeness is not such a good idea.

Monday 7:30 AM: I’m outta here.

Monday 8:30 AM: Why do all the people on the parking shuttle have green complexions? Shit! I left my real glasses in my car. I scramble to correct the situation. Situation corrected. Complexions normal.

3 comments:

Dang, dang, dang. You're off to play with the big boys and girls, and here I am slaving over dendrites and axons. Not joining you, in hopes of preserving a few of mine. It's another circadian rhythm wrecking summer already.

So MY question for the big boys and girls would be: can anybody do anything, is anybody TRYing to do anything about this approaching trainwreck called DSM V? My current despair is -- how are they going to come up with research that provides any reliable results when they can't even define the set?

So pick a suitable tune to blow at the revision committee members for me...

Have lots of fun. And don't forget the smaller Red Alert (besides the DSM thing) namely that wonderful new physical pain reliever, Cymbalta. Now I love my Med Doc. She is great, but expecting her to spot people with undiagnosed BP 1 or 2 is a bit much. And a lot of depression expresses itself in physical pain symptoms. Batten down the hatches, possible chaos ahead. And I'm not talking about the parties at your conference.